


Unusual Duel Challenge

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Age Play, Bratting, Clothing Choice, Crying, Daddy Play, Dressing, Emotional Catharasis, Facial, Fellatio, M/M, Spanking, temper tantrum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 15:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15122264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Being hit in the back of the head isn't really a thing that Shane enjoys, but... well, he'll put up with a lot for Ryan.





	Unusual Duel Challenge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fringewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fringewrites/gifts).



> Hope you like it, o fluffy winged fashnik.

Ryan was in a mood.

Although he’d never admit it - Ryan never admitted when he was fussy.

That was what it was, too - Shane could see him shifting in his seat, scowling at his computer screen, fingers occasionally clattering across his keyboard.

If they weren’t at work, he would have baby talked to Ryan, asked if the little guy needed a nap or a snack.

Their coworkers would probably object that.

Well… hmm.

Shane picked up his phone, fired off a quick text message. 

_What’s got Daddy’s little boy in such a snit?_

And then… Ryan was standing up, and he was… walking over to Shane, and he was wapping Shane on the back of the head with the paperback book he kept next to his laptop.

“Ow! What was that for?!”

“You know why,” said Ryan, and he was glaring daggers at Shane. 

Shane made eye contact, and he raised an eyebrow. 

Ryan was blushing very hard, but he gave a nod. 

“Ryan obviously hasn’t had his nap time,” Shane said. “Maybe he needs food.” 

Ryan rolled his eyes.

“You’d be in a shit mood too, if you were reading about fucking... child murder all day,” Ryan grumbled. 

“Well,” said Shane, “you were the one who decided on that one, remember?”

“Shut up,” said Ryan, but he was grinning a bit. 

So.

They were gonna have some fun tonight. 

Although, if Ryan kept pouting like that until they went home… well.

Shane made eye contact again, raised his eyebrow again. 

Ryan blushed, bit his lip, and nodded.

"Don't hit me with books," said Shane. "Let alone books about fucking... child killers."

"They're technically child _murders_ , not child killers," said Ryan. 

Shane raised an eyebrow. 

Ryan flushed, but he didn't say anything else.

"What's the difference, exactly?"

"Well," said Ryan, and he cleared his throat, "if you want to go biblical, murder is premeditated, and kill is just when someone dies."

"Of course," said Shane, deadpan. "That makes perfect sense. Since we obviously are going by biblical rules."

He was winding Ryan up.

He knew he was winding Ryan up.

Ryan probably knew that he knew that... wait.

Shane was losing track of who was thinking what.

"Don't hit me," he told Ryan again.

"Yeah, yeah," said Ryan, making a vague hand gesture, but going to sit back at his desk.

His shoulders seemed moderately less tensed up, at the very best.

* * *

The day continued - Ryan's shoulders began to creep up again, and Shane was tempted to poke him again.

But no.

He was going to... he as going to leave Ryan alone, he was going to let Ryan have his own feelings, if for no other reason than because... well, even though they played at the age play thing, at the end of the day, they were still adults, and Ryan knew how to manage his own feelings.

But Shane could practically _hear_ Ryan's teeth grinding from where he was sitting. 

Ryan really needed to work on his temper.

'What's got you in such a mood?"

Shane's tone was cheerful, as he rested a hand on Ryan's shoulder.

Ryan looked down at the hand on his shoulder, then up at Shane.

He was blushing, but he was also frowning.

"You okay?" 

Shane kept his voice pitched low.

"I'm fine," Ryan said, his voice flat.

"Do you want to go home?"

"We probably should," said Ryan, and he stretched - his back did interesting things.

"Come over to my place," Shane said, with a forced amount of casualness. "We can watch a few movies, order pizza."

Ryan was looking at him sidelong, his expression hard to read.

"Sounds like fun," Ryan agreed, his tone neutral.

"Great," said Shane, and then he was making his way towards the door. 

He waited for Ryan, before he got into his car.

* * *

Ryan was quiet in the car, but he was clearly bothered by something.

"So why are you reading up on child murders?"

... actually, Shane could have put that a little better.

Oh well.

"Because, dumbass, we have a show where we talk to ghosts and a show where we talk about dead people. Including dead kids."

"Is that any way to talk to your Daddy?"

Shane kept his voice mild.

Ryan just glared.

Shane raised an eyebrow - _you wanna keep this up?_

Ryan nodded, although he was still glaring.

Ah.

So it was going to be one of those nights.

It was nice that they had a bit of a code, but... still. 

"If you're going to be a brat, I'm going to treat you like a brat," Shane warned.

"As if you could do anything with your noodle arms," Ryan scoffed.

They stopped at a red light, and Shane's hand went out, to the back of Ryan's neck. 

He squeezed it, hard enough that Ryan made a protesting noise.

"You want to try that again?"

"Fuck you," Ryan said.

Oh yeah. 

This was going to be one of _those_ nights.

"Well," said Shane, and he tried to sound tired and sad, "if you want to be a brat, I'm gonna have to treat you like a brat."

Ryan sighed, a long, huffy sigh, and then he reached out, pinching Shane's thigh through Shane's jeans. 

Shane made an annoyed noise, and he slapped Ryan's hand away.

"I'm driving," he scolded.

"Not at this very moment, you're not," said Ryan. 

"You're right," said Shane, "but now I am. We keep our hands to ourselves. Or did you not learn that lesson in kindergarten?"

"I hate you," Ryan groused.

"I am clearly the worst," Shane agreed, "not letting you distract me when I'm driving, so that we don't end up on our own show in twenty years."

"We wouldn't be on the show, if we were dead," Ryan groused. 

"Well, no," said Shane, "but there'd be a revival of some kind."

"You think?"

"Assuming there's still a country," said Shane, as he pulled into his driveway.

"Gee, thanks," Ryan said. "That's supposed to put me in a better mood, is it?"

"No," said Shane. "I can be your Daddy and have some flavor of existential crisis at the same time, thank you very much."

"... that's not very reassuring." 

"Maybe if you were being less of a brat, I'd be more reassuring."

Shane turned the car off.

Ryan shot Shane an anxious expression.

"Really?"

"No, I wouldn't do that," Shane reassured Ryan. "I'm not that much of a jerk."

"So you are admitting to being a jerk!"

"I never said I wasn't," said Shane. 

"You're the worst."

"I'm the actual worst," Shane agreed. "Come on. Let's go upstairs."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Ryan, if you want to be a total brat, then I will drive you home, and you can glare into the emptiness without bringing me down.”

“... sorry,” 

“Do you just need to hate the world right now?”

“... I don’t know,” Ryan said, and he covered his face with both hands. “I’m sorry. Just… reading about… you know, all of that stuff, and everything else going on in the world.”

“I know,” Shane said, and he made a sympathetic noise. “Are you sure you’re up for doing anything?”

Ryan sighed, and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m just in a shit mood.”

“Well, I’m sure we can deal with that,” said Shane, and he rubbed his hands together.

Ryan eyed him, sidelong, and pressed his lips together.

“No smartass commentary?”

Ryan stuck his tongue out.

Shane rolled his eyes, and he got out of the car, locking the door behind him.

Ryan was standing up as well, and crossing his arms across his chest.

Shane took Ryan by the wrist, and he towed Ryan into the building.

“Why are you such a pouty little guy today, anyway?”

Shane unlocked his front door, and then he was ushering Ryan in.

Ryan kept his arms crossed, kept glaring.

Shane closed and locked the door behind them, kicking his shoes off, then paused.

“Are you gonna take your shoes off, bud?”

“You do it,” Ryan groused.

“You wanna try that again, but like a person?”

“Versus what?”

Shane drew himself up to his full height, so that he was looking down his nose at Ryan.

Ryan glared up at him.

“Like a brat.”

“So you’re saying that brats aren’t people?”

“They’re not the sort of people I want to spend any time with,” said Shane, trying to keep his tone even.

“That’s stupid. _You’re_ stupid!”

That must have been _some_ mood Ryan was in, if he was being this much of a shit. 

“That’s it,” said Shane, and he was just… grabbing Ryan by the arm, and they were walking, Ryan’s shoes still on, into the kitchen.

Shane grabbed a kitchen chair, and he sat in it. 

He pulled Ryan over his lap, and it was… it was unsteady, it wasn’t really that… safe, but Ryan kept wobbling. 

He wasn’t saying the safe word, and when Shane slid a hand into Ryan’s and gave it a squeeze, he got a squeeze back.

“You’re being a brat,” Shane told Ryan, “and the only real cure for brattiness is a good hard spanking. Is that what you’re asking for?”

“Fuck you!”

Ryan was struggling, but not that much.

Ryan was, objectively, stronger than Shane.

If Ryan wanted to stop and didn’t want to say anything, he could get Shane to let go.

But Ryan wasn’t doing any of that - Ryan was wriggling, but he didn’t get off of Shane’s lap, as Shane shoved the back of Ryan’s pants back, grabbed a handful of Ryan’s ass.

“That is _not_ how you talk to your Daddy,” Shane scolded, and he brought his hand down onto Ryan’s ass.

Ryan made an indignant noise, squiming, and he had an erection, right up against his Shane’s thigh, and Shane as smirking in spite of himself.

He landed another hit, and Ryan made an indignant noise, squirming some more.

The squirming was taking on a distinct… humping quality, and Shane rolled his eyes, and landed a hit on Ryan’s lower thigh, right where it was delicate.

Ryan yelped, and now he was squirming harder, as Shane began to rain hits down onto Ryan’s ass, one after another after another, until Ryan’s ass was red and glowing, welts beginning to rise up along it. 

“Ow, you jerk, I hate you, I hate this, it hurts, it hurts, fuck you, fuck… you, oh… fuck!”

More hits - Shane was getting into a rhythm now. It was just the swing of his arm, the slap of flesh on flesh, and Shane’s hand was getting sore, but not as sore as Ryan’s ass.

It had been going on for some time, it seemed - there was a warm, wet spot on Shane’s thigh, and then Shane was crying, crying so hard, it was dripping on the floor.

“You had enough, buddy?”

Shane made his voice sympathetic.

Ryan didn’t make eye contact, but he nodded.

“It’s okay,” Shane said, and then he was helping Ryan to sit up, as Ryan cried into his neck, arms wrapped around Shane’s shoulders, and Shane was rocking him, making soft, sympathetic noises. “C’mon, let it out….”

“Your head is too big,” Ryan groused.

“Ryan,” Shane said, his tone scolding, “if you want me to hurt you some more, you need to ask me nicely.”

“.. please hurt me,” Ryan mumbled.

“Where?”

“I want… please, hit my face, Daddy?”

Shane frowned. 

That… could be a bit dicey.

“I’ll hit your face once. But no more bratting, or you’ll get a punishment you _really_ won’t like.”

“Like what?”

“Like standing in the corner for as long as I see fit,” said Shane, his tone sharp.

“... okay, Daddy,” Ryan said, the very picture of meekness.

Shane balanced Ryan in his lap, carefully, and he took Ryan’s chin in his hand, bringing his hand back, and he slapped Ryan, right on the face.

Ryan cried out, and then he cried again, and he pressed his face into Shane’s shoulder again.

“Shhh,” said Shane, and then he was rocking Ryan again. “Shh, shh… it’s okay. C’mon, cry it out. It’s okay. I’ve got you. Daddy’s right here.”

“It’s hard,” Ryan mumbled. “Reading… you know, all of that horrible stuff. All those things that happened to all of those kids, and then… everything else going on… in the world, I mean.”

“I know,” Shane said, and he cupped Ryan’s cheek, thumbing away a few tears. “It’s okay. You cry all you need to.”

Ryan sighed.

“... thank you, Daddy,” Ryan mumbled.

Shane kissed his temple.

“How about we get you into some new clothes, and then we can have dinner?”

“Okay,” Ryan said, his voice quiet.

Shane sat Ryan on the floor, and he crouched in front of Ryan.

“Give me your foot, buddy.” 

Ryan extended his foot, and Shane carefully unlaced Ryan’s boots. 

* * *

Shane took Ryan into the bedroom, and he carefully undressed him.

“You have an accident, buddy?”

Shane indicated the wet, sticky patch of Ryan’s jeans.

Ryan flushed, but let Shane unbutton and unzip him.

“I… I liked the spanking.”

“Good thing I’m in a forgiving mood,” said Shane, and then he was pulling down Ryan’s pants, Ryan’s underwear.

He took off Ryan’s socks, too. 

“Stay there, buddy, I’ll be right back.”

Ryan sat on the bed, wearing nothing below the waist.

His cock was still going soft - he’d already cum, when he was being spanked.

And Ryan was sucking his thumb.

Oh geez - he was going under already.

Shane got a warm washcloth, and when he came back, Ryan was sprawled out on his bed, his eyes half shut.

“C’mon, buddy, stay awake for me.”

“Mmm,” Ryan mumbled, and he made a surprised noise, when the warm cloth wiped across his groin. 

“Shh,” Shane said. “Okay, it’s okay. C’mon, honey, let’s get you into your jammies, we can get dinner….”

“Chinese,” Ryan mumbled around his own thumb.

“Yeah? That’s doable.”

“Am I?”

“Are you what?”

Shane dropped the washcloth back into his sink, then came back. 

“Doable.”

“Not right now, you’re not.”

“Why not?”

“Daddy’s feeling more like taking care of you than fucking you,” said Shane.

“... okay,” said Ryan, and he rubbed his eyes. 

“Which jammies do you wanna wear?”

“You choose.”

“Right,” said Shane.

He pulled out a soft, floppy pair of pajama pants, printed with little ghosts.

Ryan opened his mouth to say something about it… and then he closed it. 

Ryan liked it when Shane dressed him like this. 

Ryan stood up for Shane, and he blinked down at Shane, as Shane crouched in front of him.

Shane pulled Ryan’s shirt up and off, then leaned over, kissing Ryan’s belly. 

Ryan squealed, patting the top of Shane’s head.

Shane took Ryan’s hand in his own, and kissed Ryan’s palm.

“Which shirt you wanna wear?”

“Daddy’s,” said Ryan.

“Yeah? This particular one, or any one?”

“Any one,” said Ryan.

He was still sucking his thumb.

“You’re gonna get sick from doing that,” Shane told Ryan. 

Ryan shrugged, watching as Shane went to get a shirt from the dresser.

Shane got out an old t-shirt, which would also fit Ryan without too much squeezing.

“Arms up… there we go,” said Shane. 

He kissed Ryan’s forehead, and Ryan clung to him.

“I want mothman,” Ryan mumbled. 

“Yeah?”

They’d gotten Ryan a plush mothman, when they’d been in West Virginia. 

It had big red eyes, and Ryan carried it everywhere when he was in headspace. 

“What do we say?”

“Please.”

“Good boy.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

Shane gave Ryan the plushie, and he looked down at Ryan.

“How you doing, buddy?”

Ryan’s face was still red, from the slap, and he was stroking his fingers across mothman’s soft wing.

“I’m okay,” Ryan said quietly.

“You wanna go sit on the couch and get something queued up, while I go order?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good boy.”

* * *

The food came.

They ate their dinner, and cuddled on the couch.

Ryan rested with his head on Shane’s chest, sucking on Shane’s thumb.

His eyes were half shut, and he was drowsy, calm.

“Hey, Daddy?”

“Mm?”

Shane looked down at Ryan, who was still holding on to Shane’s shirt.

“I got to cum, earlier.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Do you wanna?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Shane said. “But you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

And then… Ryan was sliding down onto the floor, and his hands were on Shane’s inner thighs. 

“I wanna,” said Ryan. “Can I?”

“If you _really_ want to,” said Shane.

“I do,” said Ryan, and then he paused.

“Daddy?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you open your pants, please?”

“Right,” said Shane, and he shimmied, pushing his pants open, then shoving his boxers down. 

Ryan didn’t do buttons or zippers when he was Little.

It was one of those things.

And then… there was Shane’s cock, out and in the cool air, already getting cool.

Ryan leaned forward, and he wrapped his lips around the head of Shane’s cock, his tongue flicking along the tip.

Shane sighed, and he leaned back into the couch, letting the pleasure wash over him.

The movie - a kiddy horror movie - went on in the background, as Ryan bobbed his head, beginning to suck.

He was drooling down his chin, leaving a wet spot on the couch, dripping down onto Shane’s balls, and that was… that was nice.

Shane sighed, rolling his hips, his hands still sliding through Ryan’s hair, rubbing it between his fingers, the palm of his hand heavy on the top of Ryan’s head.

He moaned, as he was being sucked, his toes curling, his whole body at ease.

It was… it was nice.

Ryan wasn’t sucking like he was being lazy - he bobbed his head, and then he was… god, he was sucking Shane all the way down, and Ryan’s nose was pressed right up against Shane’s belly.

Shane shuddered, his fingers still in Ryan’s hair, and his hips were rolling up, as he panted like he was running a race.

It was just… happening.

Time went by, and Shane was just… present in it.

That was part of the joy of being Big - when he was being Big, he was just enjoying the chance to inhabit his body, inhabit his mind.

He spent most of his time planning; planning his videos, planning scenes.

He was just… here.

Just here, existing, taking pleasure, spending time with his partner - his _ghoulfriend_ , as he put it. 

“God, good boy, Ryan, I’m… gonna cum….”

When had that happened?

God, that felt good, it was all so good, and then… he was arching his back, his cock as far down Ryan’s throat as it would go, and then Ryan was… pulling off, jerking off Shane’s cock, and Shane was cumming across Ryan’s face, before he even had a chance to pull back.

And Ryan was giggling.

Of course he was.

There was cum, dripping down Ryan’s cheeks, onto his chin, onto his shirt.

“Oh, buddy,” Shane said, and he was panting. “You’re a mess.”

“Sorry,” said Ryan, but he didn’t look it.

Shane leaned down, and he kissed the top of Ryan’s head. 

“I’m going to go get a washcloth,” said Shane. “Stay still.”

“New shirt?”

Shane sighed. 

“Okay,” he said, and he ruffled Ryan’s hair. “Budding clotheshorse.”

Shane snorted, wiping the cum off of Ryan’s face with the shirt, then went to his bedroom, still loose limbed and mellow from his orgasm. 

He ended up changing back into his pajamas, and then he was coming back. 

And there was Ryan, curled up on the couch, sucking his thumb.

He let himself be roused, just enough to have a shirt pulled onto him, but he was still sleepy and pliable.

“C’mon, buddy,” Shane murmured, and he let Ryan snuggle up to him, head on Shane’s chest.

And… then he was pulling Shane’s thumb into his mouth, and Shane snorted.

“Oh, honey,” Shane said, his tone affectionate. “My hands aren’t any cleaner than yours, y’know.”

“Shoosh,” Ryan mumbled.

“You want me to spank you again?”

“... no.”

“That was the most one sided duel ever.”

“Mmm?”

“You challenged me to a duel. And I took it out. On your butt.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, and pressed his nose into Shane’s neck.

“Thanks,” said Ryan, his voice quiet.

It was barely audible - it was almost ticklish, as it rumbled across Shane’s chest.

Shane sighed, and he kissed the top of Ryan’s head. 

The world was scary, but… it was nice, for now. 

This little circle of quiet was just enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com


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